


Keychains

by LittleLinor



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Adulting Is Weird, Domesticity, Everyone Else Is Here But In The Background, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 18:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14431347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: "Moving in together" feels strange when you were already together most of the time. But beyond appearances and rituals and nerves, there's something blooming in Chrono's chest that can't be described with words.(It's not just love)





	Keychains

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I wrote cute domestic fluff and I needed a break from Hunger Games.
> 
> THIS FIC DISREGARDS NEXT/Z ENTIRELY. Kazumi and Kazuma exist but the circumstances of their meeting are very different. Maybe I'll expand on it someday.  
> Timeline: roughly 4/5 years after Stride Gate.

“What do you think?” Ibuki asks softly, holding the door open for him.  
Chrono steps in. Even before he takes off his shoes, the room the front door leads to is just wide enough to feel spacious despite its modest size, the large sliding glass door leading to the balcony giving a sense of space as well as a lot of light. In the distance, he can hear a very faint hum of traffic, but most of it is kept out by the thick windows.  
It feels like a place where one can breathe. And so he does, taking in the atmosphere as well as the air itself, nice and clean rather than the ever present hint of dampness that never quite seemed to leave Ibuki's first apartment.  
“This room is nice…” he says, taking off his shoes. Behind him, Ibuki relaxes slightly.  
Really, he should't have to be that nervous. It's not like he's being tested; if they don't both like the place, there are more they could find.  
Walking further into the room reveals a kitchen islet much like the one he grew up with, giving him a good view of the room without sacrificing kitchen space—and in fact, it's bigger than his old one, he notices, excitement rushing through him before he can stop himself. Knowing Ibuki, he probably looked for something like this _specifically_ , so Chrono could indulge in his hobby without frustration, and so they could work together… it's a really nice touch, and a good point for the place already.  
It even has a nice oven. Definitely a good place.  
A small corridor leads into a bedroom, bigger than he expected.  
“There's only one bedroom,” Ibuki says, apologetic, “but I thought that if we ever need more…”  
He trails off.  
“… yeah?”  
“… by then, we could maybe consider buying an actual house. Or a larger apartment, if we want to stay in the area.”  
He says it without looking at him, darkening cheeks belying the stable monotone of his voice, and Chrono's breath trickles to a stop.  
_If we ever need more._ If a desire for family becomes a reality—there's still some time until that dream is attainable, Chrono thinks, but the fact that he's _considering it_ is groundbreaking.  
Even the fact that he's projecting himself that far in the future at all is groundbreaking. Taking the decision to move in together was definitely the right choice.  
“… yeah,” Chrono answers, quietly. “That sounds good.” He smiles, pushing the urge to cry away—why do tears come to him more easily from positive emotions than sadness, anyway—and makes sure to catch his eyes before continuing. “I like this place, too.”  
Ibuki's hands slide into his pockets.  
“Wait until you see the bathroom.”  
The bathroom, it turns out, has not just a shower but an actual bathtub, and a large one too, and Chrono would almost have been sold even if the next point hadn't been a convenient laundry space in which to put a washer _and_ a dryer.  
“How did you even find this place?” he asks as they walk back to the main room through the corridor, honestly the only down point for being a little narrow, but it's the price one has to pay for main rooms that feel so comfortably spacious, he thinks.  
“Actually,” Ibuki answers, a touch of humour to his voice, “it belongs to one of the companies Myoujin was using to manage his wealth. After I helped clean it up, the new CEO seems to have taken a liking to me—probably because I helped him get to that position. I told him we'd still pay a normal rent, but it saves having to get references.”  
“You're getting better than me at this networking thing,” Chrono says after a small whistle.  
And—as he expected, and to his amusement—Ibuki looks away again.  
“I try.”  
Chuckling, Chrono reaches for his hand.  
“Listen. I love it. And if you got the key to let me visit, it means you like it too, right?”  
Slowly, he nods.  
“The room is nice…”  
He trails off. Not just in his usual way of having made his point and not thinking to finish his sentences or conversations, but from hesitation. Chrono squeezes his hand.  
“What is it?”  
“… it felt like a place that would fit you.”  
“Huh?”  
“I can picture you in here. It feels natural. More than in my current apartment.”  
And then it's Chrono's turn to feel his face heat up.  
“… oh.” _Wow, eloquent_. “Oh. Um. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, tries to find words, fails, and just gives up and rests his forehead against Ibuki's shoulder with a whine. “Damnit.”  
“Chrono?”  
“Why are you so… so…” He sighs, and wraps his arm around Ibuki's back. “You're so sweet in unexpected ways. Although I should expect them by now.”  
“… I'm just saying the truth,” Ibuki says quietly.  
“And that's exactly why I'm saying this. … okay,” he adds, straightening. “Let's do this. We both like it, it's affordable and clean and the location is almost ideal. I don't think there's much of a point looking somewhere else.”  
Ibuki smiles proudly, and Chrono almost has to hide again.

A mere two days later, the paperwork is signed, and the day after that Chrono has his own key dangling on his keychain, next to Mikuru's and the one to Ibuki's own, soon to be deserted apartment.  
It feels… strange. Anticlimatic, even. His entire being is buzzing with excitement, but everything happens so casually and naturally, and the thought that he'll soon have a place of his own doesn't seem quite real.  
“You've been taking care of this one for years,” Mikuru says with a laugh when he pours his thoughts out to her that evening over a cup of tea. “It doesn't feel as big because taking care of a household isn't actually new to you. It's just like you're simply moving.” She grins. “If you were a normal student leaving home and having to take care of yourself for the first time, you'd be feeling a lot more overwhelmed.”  
“… I guess,” he says, half-chuckle-half-sigh. “It's not like living with him is really new either.”  
“But it being official makes it different, doesn't it?”  
He feels his cheeks heat up and curses how obvious he's being about the whole thing.  
“… yeah. It really does.”  
They drink, in comfortable silence, until Mikuru sets her cup down and looks to the side.  
“… I'm sorry… you really didn't have a normal childhood, did you… I wish I could've been there more…”  
He snorts.  
“Like that's _your_ fault. You _saved_ my childhood. What was left of it. And all this time _you_ could have been moving in with someone too, you know? But you always put me first.”  
A small smile slides back on her lips.  
“I was too young at first anyway—no offense, we're different situations,” she adds with a little laugh before we can react. “And then… it was enough, being with you, anyway. And I wanted… I wanted to be my own person. I built my company and my family from the ground up… I didn't want to put that aside just to look for someone. If I'd really come across someone I loved, maybe it would have been different,” she adds with a softer smile.  
“I can understand not just wanting to rely on some guy after what happened,” he mutters into his cup.  
She laughs, and reaches across the table to ruffle his hair, as if he _was_ still a little boy.  
“But what if I'm relying on you?”  
“That's different!”  
“Hehe. You were so reliable as a ward, I can't imagine what it'd be like as a partner. I should warn Ibuki not to overuse it too much.”  
“Hey!” She laughs again, and he pouts. “No, seriously, don't, he'll try doing everything on his own again. It took me a lot of work to get him to rely on me.”  
“Look who's talking, mister 'I'll save the world and be home on time to make dinner and leave some in the fridge'. You _both_ try to do everything yourselves. I'm not sure whether I should be relieved or worried that you're together.”  
“We've been doing fine so far, haven't we?” he pouts again, drinking more of his tea.  
“That's true.” She smiles. “… I'm glad you found someone you really want to build a future with, Chrono. I was worried when you were younger, you know? You were so focused on not making any waves, as if you didn't want to exist at all.”  
“… I kinda didn't,” he says quietly. “But you changed that. And then my friends changed that. And then him. Even Ryuzu,” he adds with a hint of a laugh.  
“Which Ryuzu?” she asks with a bit of humour.  
“Both. The old one made me realise how much I _did_ want a future. And the young one… well, I can't be a reliable big brother figure and guide him on the right path if I don't exist, right? I can't not be involved in people's lives now.”  
“That's true.” She takes a sip. “You'd better not stop being involved in mine, though. I'll miss you too much.”  
“Hey, it's not like I'm moving cities! We'll be ten minutes away. And I'm leaving some of my stuff here until you kick me out, remember?”  
“I'm warning you now, you'd better be prepared to be invited to dinner often.”  
He laughs.  
“Okay, fine, I'm not gonna complain. But there's one condition.”  
“Oh? Let's hear it.”  
He grins.  
“First time is at _our_ place instead.”  
“… I think I can accept those terms,” she says, smile serene.

They shop for appliances as soon as they both get out of work for the weekend. Ibuki already had a fridge, a little on the small side but too functional for either of them to feel comfortable replacing yet, but Chrono intends to make good use of that washer and drier space. No need to waste time and energy using laundromats when you can do a better job at home and make dinner while it runs.  
They add a tv to the list of things to be delivered in the afternoon, buy a few ambient lights that Chrono insists on to give a middle ground between actual darkness and the strong ceiling lights, and he hesitates for one longing second as they pass the kitchen appliances aisle before Ibuki, in an unusual show of assertiveness, takes their cart and turns into it without even asking.  
“Kouji—” he calls out, catching up.  
“We're well within budget,” Ibuki answers, monotone but firm. “Don't hold yourself back just to be frugal.”  
“I can deal fine with what we have…”  
“Being well equipped will save you time we can spend on other things. And meal quality is essential to health.” And then more quietly, he adds: “… that was my image too.”  
“Huh?”  
“I want this to be somewhere you can do the things you _want_. … I want you to have fun.” He stops, actually looking at him. “You've talked about wanting a fully equipped kitchen before.”  
It's true. He'd mentioned it maybe once or twice, when talking to his friends during one of their parties, as a dream of what he'd want to do if he ever got a significant paycheck. And the pay he has now _could_ cover it, if he's completely honest, but true to himself, the more he started making decent money, the more he justified saving it and spending less than what he could afford.  
Maybe he'd always seen it as a dream and not something to become a reality.  
“… I did,” he admits.  
“Then it's settled.”  
“… we're sharing the cost though.”  
Ibuki smiles.  
“Of course.”

They come out with several extra boxes and, in Chrono's case, a slight feeling of pleased guilt, then drop by another store to expand on Ibuki's small stack of dishes—the difference between living alone with a second person half the time and actually living as a couple with potential guests—and much too small collection of cookware. And then yet another, for a bit of extra furniture, some new cushions, a set of curtains for the main room. By the time they're done, it's almost time for their delivery, and it's already evening when they get all of the new purchases set up, the apartment only waiting for the things they'd be bringing over from previous homes.  
“… we haven't even eaten,” Chrono sighs, collapsing on a chair.  
“Should we order delivery?”  
“… if you want.” He represses the little bittersweet flutter of excitement in his chest and gives Ibuki a teasing smile. “Get us some soba for old times' sake?”  
Ibuki nods silently and pulls out his phone.

The moment he hangs up, Chrono wraps himself around him from behind, pressing his face into his back.  
“… Chrono?”  
“Sorry… I'm kinda scared, I think.”  
After a moment's silence, Ibuki's hands come to rest on his own, warm and tender.  
“… me too,” he finally admits.  
“It's dumb, I've wanted it for a long time, but…” He trails off. “… maybe it's _because_ I've wanted it for a long time.”  
“Hm?”  
“I'd been thinking about living alone for a long time… and then I've been wanting to live with _you_ for a while… so now it's actually happening there's the chance that it won't be as good as I imagined, I guess.”  
Ibuki doesn't answer, but his hands tighten, like a hug of his own.  
“… sorry, it's just nerves,” Chrono sighs eventually, pressing his cheek against Ibuki's back.  
“I'll be happy just being with you,” Ibuki says, quietly. “The days you've spent living with me have already proven that.”  
Chrono's heart skips out of rhythm.  
“I— when you say it like that— you know what, you're right, actually. Thanks.” He tightens his hold. “… and me too. I'm nervous, but I wouldn't want to stop.”  
“I read that people with strong imaginations are more prone to nerves,” Ibuki says, a hint of amusement in his voice.  
“… that's such a roundabout way to make a compliment.”  
“I do think it might be true in your case.”  
“… what's the logic, we keep imagining what could happen so we drive ourselves into a corner with nerves?”  
“Mmm.”  
“… makes sense. I dunno if it's _true_ but there's a logic to it.” He sighs and releases his hold, only to pull on Ibuki's sleeve to make him turn to face him, and hug him again. “… thanks.”  
“Hm? For what?”  
“For cheering me up. … for doing this with me in the first place.”  
He laughs.  
“I've rarely been more happy than when you offered. I wouldn't have refused even for the world.”  
“… I just hope it lives up to your expectations. That it makes you happy.”  
“It already does.”

They eat delivery soba in their half-furnished home before going back to Ibuki's apartment, and it feels as surreal as the rest, but walking side by side makes it feel a little more solid.

A week later, they're loading the last of Chrono's very few boxes into Ibuki's car. The contents of Ibuki's old apartment have already been transferred via a small truck, although he didn't have that many belongings to his name either. Still, it means the new place has a kotatsu now, a fact Ibuki has tried (in vain) to hide his relief about.  
“Are you sure you're not bringing Saya along?” Mikuru teases.  
“She'll watch over the room while I'm gone,” Chrono answers. “Can't leave you completely alone, can I?”  
She hides a laugh with her hand.  
“… it feels too weird if the room's completely empty,” he admits. “And we won't have as much spare space on the bed anyway.”  
“Uh-huh. I see.”  
“C'mon,” he grumbles, busying himself with securing the box into place and closing the door to hide his face.  
“I'm allowed to tease you a little, aren't I? It's weird seeing you all grown up like this.”  
“You're still taller than me,” he points out with a hint of a laugh.  
“Blame your grandparents. We're all giants. I don't know how you escaped it.”  
“Maybe the swirl just makes up part of it. Anyway,” he adds as Ibuki comes down the stairs too, “we'd better get going.”  
“Do you need any help with the cleaning up?”  
“We finished that already.”  
“Efficient.”  
“… I got restless yesterday so I kinda grabbed a broom and sponge and got most of it done.”  
She rolls her eyes, chuckling.  
“Don't overwork yourself, Chrono.”  
“I know, I know. Anyway. Friday night. Don't forget, okay?”  
“I won't. Promise.”

“Well… I guess that's it?” Chrono says, sliding the last of his Vanguard magazines in one of the bookshelves in the living room.  
They look around. The tv's been unpacked and placed on its stand, the table and chairs are bare but functional, and the kitchen, still unused, is so well equipped and carefully organised that it almost looks like it's been photographed for advertisement. The curtains are hanged, and currently open, there's a weather-proof chair on the balcony—although plants will have to come later—and the slightly worn kotatsu has a basket of fruit placed on it, a congratulations present from Chrono's coworkers at the Dark Zone branch.  
It doesn't look quite lived in yet, but you could almost believe.  
“… let's go grocery shopping,” Ibuki says suddenly.  
And suddenly, it feels right. Normal.  
“Yeah!”

They shop, and make dinner together, Ibuki taking care of the rice and setting up the table, and spend the evening after that having cardfight after cardfight, battling until they're too tired to do anything but go to sleep instantly when they go to bed, the strange feeling too far away under the drowsiness and warmth of each other's bodies to care.

Friday night comes, and the apartment that felt so big for two suddenly feels so small under the weight of all the people who came. It's only close friends and family, but it's a shock to both of them, realising how many people that actually is, how little they fit the loner label now. There's Mikuru and Shion and Tokoha with Mamoru and Kumi, Kazuma with a beaming Kazumi, Taiyou, Miwa (Kai, as usual, was at the other end of the globe and couldn't make it), and Ryutaro Oyama, present by virtue of technically being Chrono's colleague and of having sort of declared himself a father figure to Ibuki, who by now has gone from complete bewilderment to amused and somewhat grateful acceptance.  
Presents range from sweets to colourful bowls themed after Cray Nations, to a takoyaki pan, courtesy of Tokoha.  
“You're never gonna let me live it down, are you?” Chrono chuckles as he puts it away.  
“But you were so _good_ at it! And these days you can afford the ingredients for real takoyaki, right?”  
“Are you just trying to have me make you some?”  
“… well, not _just_.”  
“I liked the sweet ones,” Kumi says dreamily, and both he and Tokoha laugh.  
Shion's present comes in an envelope.  
“This had better not be money,” Chrono grumbles.  
“Come on, I have better manners than that,” Shion says, perfectly sitting in his perfect suit with his perfect hair and his absolutely not perfectly angelic smile (Chrono knows him too well for that).  
He opens the envelope. The papers inside state that a very high standard dishwasher has been purchased and awaits delivery instructions. It's even exchangeable, should the size not fit their space.  
“… are you _kidding_?”  
“I know you two. You were going to just do everything yourself, weren't you?”  
“There's only two of us, I can handle it just fine, you know.”  
“Chrono. Learn to take a break every now and then.”  
“… I guess you're right. Thanks,” he adds with a sighing smile.  
“You're welcome,” Shion says, helping himself to some food.

A few hours later, they're all gone, and Chrono decides, after washing all the dishes (Shion _was_ right, damn him), to leave the rest of tidying up for the next morning.  
It's late at night already, and the city outside is just alive enough that the faint noise is enough to make the quiet room feel like a cocoon. Wrapped in the life outside and the night and the lights, the soft glow of the lamp they left on giving the room a warm, gentle colour.  
He finds Ibuki sitting at his familiar kotatsu, nibbling at a piece of candy that Oyama gave them, pensively staring outside.  
“You look tired,” he says quietly, dropping down next to him.  
Ibuki blinks.  
“Am I?”  
“A little spacy. Too many people?”  
“… I enjoyed it, but I'm not used to having so many in such a small space.”  
He hums in agreement, and leans against Ibuki's shoulder, taking in the feeling of being there, with him, in their own home, of knowing he'll be there almost every day for the foreseeable future.  
It feels natural already.  
“—oh!” he says suddenly, getting back up. “I have something for you. Hang on.”  
He quickly walks to their room, picks up the carefully wrapped present he'd been keeping in his drawer until today, and makes his way back to Ibuki.  
“Here,” he says, handing it to him before sitting back down. “That's _my_ housewarming present to you.”  
Ibuki blinks, and stares at him in silence for a few moments, before finally opening the wrapping, delicately, careful not to tear anything. It reveals soft, plush fabric in a soft purple, and he runs his fingertips over it first, feeling the texture, taking the time to enjoy the sensation. Then he pulls it out and unfolds it, revealing a large blanket, and only hesitates a second before wrapping it around his shoulders.  
“… thank you,” he says quietly, not quite looking at him.  
“Mmm. I don't want you to get cold when you're sitting like this.”  
Ibuki looks at him, warm and intense, and takes his hand, and once more Chrono feels like he's made the right choice, just like he did when they fought each other and made promises on the brink of war, just like he did when he poured his entire being into one last stride, the hearts of everyone he loved joined with him to tell him that they wanted to face the future together.  
This. This is what he fought for.  
“… I don't have anything,” Ibuki says, a hint of quiet guilt in his voice.  
“It's okay,” he answers, squeezing his hand and leaning against his shoulder again. “I already got what I wanted most.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry for the extremely cheesy ending. I'm French, cheese is in my genes.


End file.
